


Jealously

by PsychoticPerfection13



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Puns, Barry is a cute marshmallow, Bruce needs to get his shit together, Eye Sex, Fluff and Angst, Humor, I probably might add Damian hating on Clark cuz I just can't resist, I'm bad at tagging sorry, M/M, Oblivious! Clark, Possessive! Bruce, Sexual Content, Shy! Barry, Slow Build, justice league - Freeform, superhero love, will be continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoticPerfection13/pseuds/PsychoticPerfection13
Summary: Bruce Wayne has no right to feel possessive towards Clark Kent. Why would he anyways? Clark and him may be best friends, but that doesn't mean he can just lay claim over him like he's property. Bruce already has an amazing boyfriend, and the fact that Barry Allen flirts with Clark all the time doesn't bother him in the slightest.Nope. Not in the slightest.





	1. Chapter 1~

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BatShitCrazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatShitCrazy/gifts).



> So.... this is the first fanfiction I'm ever posting. I've written a few but I just don't feel they're good enough to post just quite yet :/ I'm actually really proud of this first chapter so I decided to post it :) This is probably a really bad idea to post this because I'm really bad at continuing things and staying on topic, but I just really want to try it. This work is dedicated to BatShitCrazy cause she's been a pretty big inspiration to me while writing and I love her stories. You should go check her out. 
> 
> Updates will probably be really inconsistent so, read at your own risk.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! :D
> 
> -Lex
> 
> (P.S. it says 1/1 chapters, but it WILL be continued!!!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batcave - November 13th, 2017. 11:32 PM.

Bruce was typing away at his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard with ease, when a green light started shining throughout the cave so bright that he had to bring his forearm up and shield his eyes from the assaulting luminescence. He dove under his desk and crouched low in a defensive stance, his fingers trailing along the compartments on his utility belt. Was someone here with kryptonite maybe, and just assumed Superman was here? That seemed to be the most logical explanation, except that no one could get past the Cave's security systems without being detected except Clark himself, and-

A dark brown mop of hair appeared from on top of the desk, hanging upside down with a sheepish smile on its face-

Bruce brought his arm back and punched it square in the face.

The green light slowly faded away and completely dissapeared when a figure went tumbling to the floor, curled up and cradling its face. He straddled the collapsed body, momentarily forgetting that whoever this... intruder was would see his face, and brought his fist back once more... only to stop dead in his tracks.

Underneath him, with blood dripping out of his nose and a red circle on his eye that was sure to leave a bruise, was Hal Jordan. Green Lantern.

His boyfriend.

Bruce let his arm fall to his side and looked down at the bloodied and bruised man. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and leaned forward with his hands on either side of Hal's head, letting out a dry laugh. His hair hung and he lowered his voice to imitate the Bat, hoping that it would still have the same affect as if he had the cowl on.  
"How many times," he started dangerously, "have I told you to tell me when you were coming to the Cave?" Hal opened his eyes by a fraction and gave him a weak smile, shrugging as best as he could with a 200 pound man on top of him.

"Sorry, I forgot."

Bruce pulled back and snorted, rolling his eyes. He brought his voice back to normal and carded a hand through his hair.

"Of course you did."

He shook his head and let out a stiff laugh, and he looked like he was about to say more, but decided better of it. He gracefully rolled off of the man sprawled on the floor, and stood up, holding a hand out wordlessly. Hal grabbed it and he was pulled up, brushing off his suit. Bruce returned to his work without another word, his fingers flying across the keyboard, and continued to disregard Hal even when he shifted from foot to foot behind him. Hal stared at his boyfriends back, stiff and unresponsive, and let out a sigh. Hal could see the slightest twitch of his left shoulder, which meant he clearly heard him, but he still paid no heed to the man behind him. Hal sighed louder this time, loud enough to be annoying, and Bruce let out an irritable groan, swiveling his chair around to face Hal. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, and Hal prepared to get lectured, but his hand dropped from his face and he gave Hal a look that was just plain wary. That was when Hal noticed just how tired he looked. Though it wasn't particularly noticeable, there were a few new gray hairs at his scalp, and there were slightly dark bags under his eyes that made him him look much older than his age of 32.

"I need a break."

Hal's thoughts were cut off when Bruce stood from his chair and stretched his arms out above his head, a few bones crackling, then let them drop to his sides with a loud exhale. Bruce limped to the couch on the far side of the room and flopped down with a loud thump.

(Limped. That's another thing Hal hadn't noticed, that Bruce's leg was injured. How did he not notice that?

He felt a slight tug at his heart when he realized that Bruce had taken him down almost instantaneously even with an injured leg. He wasn't sure if it was a good tug or a bad one.)

Hal pushed that thought away and kneeled down next to Bruce's figure sprawled on the couch, taking the hand hanging off the couch and holding it in his.  
"Want me to go get some bourbon from upstairs?"  
Even though Bruce's voice was muffled by the pillow his head was currently sinking in to, he could hear the "yes" in it. He pressed a quick kiss to Bruce's temple and made his way up the stairs to the kitchen.

Hal returned with two full bottles of bourbon, not even bothering with glasses. Bruce turned his head and accepted the liquor being held out to him, and proceeded to sit up and knock back a quarter of the bottle in one swig. Hal looked at him, perplexed, then took a gulp of his bottle.

"I think we're going to need more bourbon."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

3 whole bottles of bourbon later and the empty bottles lay forgotten on the table by the couch. Bruce was straddling Hal and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while his tongue darted inside of his mouth, earning a breathy moan from Hal. While Bruce rarely drank and even more rarely got completely drunk, there were some special circumstances occasionally where he was allowed to loosen up. Dick was out patrolling tonight, so the Bat wasn't needed on the streets of Gotham. It had also been a hard week, with Joker escaping from Arkham and threatening to blow up the Gotham ports, to Flash needing assistance in Central City with Gorilla Grodd. But now he finally had some time to himself, so he pushed all those thoughts away and focused on Hal. Hal's hands traveled from Bruce's shoulders to his waist and Bruce grinded his jeans against Hal's slowly. Hal let out a gasp as Bruce pulled back, smiling down at him wolfishly. His smile faded slightly as he looked down at the man he was ravishing, and his head cocked to the side, eyebrows furrowed. That didn't look right. He ran his fingers through Hal's hair gently and pulled down a little tuft of hair so it hung it front of his forehead. He leaned back to admire his work while Hal looked up at him with a look on his face somewhere between astonishment and incertitude. It still didn't look quite how he wanted it to. Bruce frowned slightly. The hair was alright, he supposed, but the eye color and hair color was all wrong. His eyes were too dark, but his hair not dark enough.

Wrong.

Hal thrust his hips up and his jeans scraped against Bruce's again, reminding him of his presence. Bruce let out a ragged breath and carded a hand through the other man's hair as Hal sat up and nipped his neck, his teeth pulling the skin taut. He could think about what troubled him later.

Wrong.

Hal grabbed his thighs and lifted him up, Bruce's legs wrapping around his waist as they slowly made their way up to his bedroom. They didn't break their kiss even as they bumped into the painting on the wall, even as they were jolted by an end table crashing to the floor, even as they collided with the bedroom door, and even as Bruce realized how suddenly wrong this felt.

But he loved him. How could this be wrong?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later, Hal leaned over him, supporting himself on his forearms, pounding into him at a steady pace while he ground his teeth together so hard it must've hurt. Bruce was under him, clutching the sheets with one hand with the other in a fist in his mouth in an attempt to stifle his moans. It felt so good... yet so wrong. Bruce buried that sick feeling deep inside of him and promised himself he would analyze it later, but even he knew that was a lie. Hal dug his nails into his hips hard enough to draw blood, a sign Bruce had seen and experienced many times which indicated he was nearing the end. Hal leaned down and kissed him tenderly, his pace never wavering as he slid his tongue into Bruce's mouth, exploring.

Wrong.

Hal came suddenly inside of him, a gasp cut off by a loud moan as he coated his inner walls white. His head hung forward, ruining the little curl Bruce had made, as he jerked off Bruce to completion. He didn't stop thrusting inside of him, occasionally rolling his hips, trying to ride out his orgasm. They were both so intoxicated that Bruce barely realized as he finally tipped over the edge, that the name that left his mouth was not Hal's.

Hal didn't seem to realize this either as he pulled out and collapsed beside Bruce, wordlessly pulling him against his chest. He kissed the back of Bruce's head and tightened his hold on him, murmuring a few words of affection before slipping off in to sleep. Bruce let out a sigh and settled down in his arms, letting his eyes flutter closed. The sinking feeling in his stomach did not go away.

Wrong.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Central City - November 17th, 2017. 3:28 PM.

Clark was currently hovering midair, frowning down at the frozen over ground of Central City, nose scrunched up. This was going to be one hell of a clean up job. And he had that article due for Perry tomorrow. He was so screwed.

Superman touched down on the ground just in time to see Captain Cold get shoved into the back of a police car, stripped of his goggles and cold gun. He was oddly quiet, letting the officers manhandle him and shove his head down. The man stared out of the car window at him, not breaking his gaze even as they drove away. He definitely would be seeing him again soon.

Barry appeared next to him along with a whoosh of air, hands on his hips and smiling victoriously at him. His hair was tousled from running around and his cheeks were tinged pink from the cold. Clark smiled back and gestured at the ground, raising an eyebrow. "So, quite the predicament we're in, huh?"

(Barry tried not to think about how that teasing lilt in his voice made his heart stutter.)

"Yup. So we better get started!"  
Barry clapped his hands together and picked up a chunk of ice on the ground, depositing it into Clark's hands. He gave him a little wink and tried not to die when Clark gave a small laugh, deep and low from the pit of his stomach.  
"Yeah, we better."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After Superman and Flash had helped with the majority of the cleanup and had shaken hands with almost every person in the city, Flash pulled Superman to the side, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and something like-- disappointment?

Barry looked down, his hands clasped behind his back, and kicked a small leftover chunk of ice. "Batman called. I have monitor duty in half an hour," he huffed. "You know Batman. I better get going if I don't want to have to mop the entire Watchtowef in order for being late." It was obvious he was trying to sound nonchalant about it, and he was failing spectacularly.

He gave a little shrug and stuck out his hand for Clark to shake. The look of chagrin had disappeared off of his face only to be replaced by a very feigned smile. "Maybe I'll see you later though, Supes."

Clark shook his hand and Flash held on for a little longer than what was considered friendly, looking into his blue eyes as if he were searching for something in them. Clark cleared his throat and pulled back with a bit of difficulty, prying his fingers from Barry's. Barry looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet. Was he feeling okay? He looked sick.

"I actually have to get back to the Watchtower too, got to go over some battle tactics with Diana and Bruce," he waved his hand dismissively. "You know, the usual." He flashed a smile at Barry and made a vague gesture toward the sky. "I can give you a lift if you want."

Barry's mask did absolutely nothing to hide the red flush that creeped up his neck and onto his cheeks. Superman raised a concerned eyebrow and Barry's heart rate soared. He stood there, mouth agape and completely at a loss for words. Was he really asking me if I wanted to-?

"-lash?"

His thoughts (or lack there of) skidded to an abrupt halt as Superman's voice broke through the chaos wreaking havoc throughout his brain.

"Huh-what?"

A hand was place on his forehead and he closed his eyes and leaned into it slightly, unknowingly nuzzling at it. So warm...

"Are you okay Flash? Your heart rate just sky rocketed."

Flash pulled away from the warmth as quickly as he could, ignoring the chill he felt run throughout his body. He mentally slapped himself across the face, thinking about how weird Clark probably thought he was now. Why did Clark always make him feel like he was some kind of prepubescent teenager?

"I'm fine. It's just, you know," he gestured to the leftover ice that the sun had just started melting, "it's.... cold," he finished weakly.

The look of concern on Clark's face fell away and Barry forced his heart rate to stay level when Superman stepped back and spread his arms wide, inviting Barry to step in. Barry forced himself not to hesitate as he stepped forward and dubiously wrapped his arms around his torso, linking his hands behind his back. Barry flushed crimson as a few civilians whistled wolfishly, hoping Clark wouldn't notice.

If Superman noticed the catcalling, he didn't show it in the slightest, and instead shot into the sky, leaving a sonic boom and lots of gawking civilians in their wake. Barry tightened his hold around him as they shot into the air and let out a little gasp, looking down at the buildings far, far, below them. Superman suddenly stopped and looked down at Barry, the worry on his face clear. "You okay?"

Flash let out a shaky breath and forced his arms to loosen around the muscled torso. He didn't dare look up, knowing that he would see Clark's inhuman blue eyes filled with concern for him, him, Barry Allen, The Flash.

"I'm fine," Clark still didn't move. "Fine," he repeated.  
He felt Clark hesitate before they were shooting through the air again, going a bit slower than last time. But gosh... he was warm. Barry rested his head against Clark's chest, listening to his powerful, intent heartbeat. He snuggled closer to him, unknowingly letting out a little sigh of contentment.

"Uh, Barry, we're here."

Barry's eyes flew open. The bright blue sky was gone, replaced with a cold, hard floor. They weren't flying anymore. They were standing in the Watchtower, Barry still standing on Clark's feet with his arms wrapped around him, head nestled under his chin. He looked up and couldn't help but chuckle a little bit when Clark shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah.. Kryptonian biology. I'm always a few degrees over a standard human."

Barry made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and leaned his head against his chest again.

"You're like a human oven Supes."

They stayed like that for a few seconds longer, Barry reveling in how warm he was and the steady rise and fall of Clark's chest.

"Ahem."

They both turned to find Batman leaning against the doorframe. He looked even more annoyed than usual, with his arms crossed and a frown on his face, his eyes visibly narrowed through the cowl.

"Bruce! Hey!"

Clark pulled away, much to Barry's dismay, and walked up to Batman, raising a hand for a high five. Bruce angrily smacked it away and grabbed his arm.

"You're late. We were supposed to start at 6."

Clark raised an eyebrow at him and the corner of his mouth twisted into a frown. "Bruce, it's 6:02," he said, pointing at the clock hanging on the wall.  
Bruce ignored him and his eye roll and turned to Barry, pointing an accusing finger at him. "And you. You were supposed to start monitor duty at 6 as well. Now that room is unmonitored, and God knows what could be happening on Earth right now."

Flash crossed his arms and pouted. "Bruce, what's gonna happen on Earth in the span of 2 minutes?"  
Bruce ignored him and snapped his fingers, pointing towards the monitor.  
"Monitor duty. Now. And you can mop everyone's private quarters too, since you have so much free time to be giving out hugs to everyone," he motioned to Clark distastefully.  
Well, Barry thought ruefully, at least it wasn't the whole Watchtower.  
Clark shot Barry an apologetic smile as Bruce slung an arm around his shoulder.

"Maybe I'll see you later, Barry?"

And then they were walking away, with Bruce's arm still hanging around his shoulder. Barry's felt a pang of indignation when Bruce turned his head around, eyes narrowed with a satisfied smirk on his face. He ushered Clark into the conference room, grinning as the door slammed shut. Like he had won something.

Barry huffed out a breath and threw his arms up.

"Well, guess I'll just get to monitor duty," he spat to no one in particular.


	2. Chapter 2~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets jealous. Barry gets salty. Clark is clueless. Hal is just trying to be a good boyfriend. 
> 
> Diana is just trying to do her job here. 
> 
> And then they all go to the mall together!
> 
> This is a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!! I was super anxious to get this out, so I just wrote ideas in my journal while my sixth period teacher was talking about "first day procedures."
> 
> Who needs those anyways?
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Chapter 3 will be out soon! :3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Watchtower Conference Room - November 17th, 2017  7:12 PM.**

****

Bruce sat back in his chair in the conference room, his arms crossed across his chest. Diana was at the front of the room, pointing at a chart and filling them in on the possible alliance with Themyscira. "My sisters are a bit hesitant to team up with men and all, but you'll find...."

****

As she continued to talk, he glanced over at Clark, who looked about ready to fall asleep with his head in his hands and his eyes glazed over. God, can't he pay attention to the meetings for once? Bruce couldn't count the number of times he had lectured Clark about the subject. He knew that his mind was always several places at once, and sometimes it was hard to concentrate. He could hear everything going on on Earth, even from space. But he was their leader, and out of all of them he was the one who should be paying the most attention. He studied him while Clark proceeded to zone out with his mouth open stupidly, looking out the window at some stars. Were his eyes always that blue? He wasn't even sure they were blue, more like... cerulean. Like the ocean by Kahului. And they glittered like sapphires when the star light hit his eyes just a certain way. His eyes trailed downwards as Clark's head sank lower to the table. His suit. He never really realized just how well his suit fit him. Because it fit him well. Really well.

****

Clark idly looked over, realized he was watching him, and smiled. Bruce's heart stuttered and he glared at him to try and cover it up. As soon as Clark actually registered that Bruce was looking at him he straightened up immediately, his knee bumping the table, threatening to toss it across the room. Diana shot them both a glare, and Clark sank down in his chair while Bruce turned his attention back to the chart. When the hell had he started noticing little things about Clark?

****

The meeting continued on without anymore distractions, and after they had finished, Diana packed up her things and excused herself. "I haven't seen my mother in ages, so I must go and check up on her. Forgive me," she had said. They both smiled and bid her farewell before she teleported away, waving as she went. Clark turned to him when she was gone, biting the inside of his cheek. A nervous habit.

****

"Hey... sorry for zoning out there. I had a lot on my mind," Clark said, shrugging. Bruce scoffed and started to gather his things, sparing a sideways glance at him. "Tell me about it." "Well," Clark started, not understanding metaphors, Bruce thought dryly, "I have an article due for Perry tomorrow, and I'm just wondering whether or not he'll fire me for it being half-assed. I haven't had any time to work on it between the League and incidents on Earth."

****

Bruce let out a dry laugh, eyeing his suit. "Trust me, no part of you is half-assed." Bruce froze as he was picking up a paper, letting it sink in that he had just complimented his best friend's ass. He hadn't even meant to, it had just slipped out. But he knew he had meant it. Clark just laughed and continued talking, about how Perry was sometimes a bit aggressive but otherwise a great boss and how Jimmy had spilled coffee over his first draft and offered to take him out to lunch to apologize. Bruce felt his blood boil at the prospect of another person taking Clark out. He knew that Clark wasn't romantically interested in Jimmy. Hell, he didn't even know if Clark was romantically interested in men in general. So why was he so jealous?

****

Suddenly, the doors were thrown open and Hal and Barry came bouncing in, each with huge smiles on their faces. "Hey babe!" Hal threw his arms around Bruce's neck and Bruce pulled back, attempting to pry the grabby man off of him. Clark was leaning against the wall, chatting pleasantly with Barry with his arms crossed across his chest. Hal continued to practically try and climb Bruce like a jungle gym while Bruce strained to listen in to what they were saying.

****

"So, Supes... was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out tomorrow afternoon."

****

"Oh, yeah! I'm pretty sure I'm free. What did you have in mind?"

****

Bruce sent a sideways glare in the speedster's direction, his mouth twisting into a scowl. Barry sent a smug smile back in his direction and turned back to Clark, his eyes still following Bruce. "Oh, I don't know," he said turning his gaze back to Clark, "Maybe-"

****

While he was talking, Barry attempted to smoothly lean against the wall and failed spectacularly, stumbling forward. "Woah!" Barry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to make contact with the floor. He threw his arms out in front of him, hoping to soften his fall. Maybe then he wouldn't look like a complete idiot then in front of his long time crush. When he didn't immediately hear Batman snickering about his tumble, he cracked open an eye to find himself buried in Clark's chest, being held up by his forearms. Barry pulled back and cleared his throat, looking at the floor, but still didn't let go of Clark's bicep. Bruce and Hal were still wrestling when Bruce let out a rather fierce growl and punched Hal hard in the arm.

****

"Anyways," he started awkwardly, "I was wondering if you'd like to go the mall or something. Maybe get some new clothes, grab a bite to eat at the food court?" He looked up at him hopefully and put on his best puppy dog face. Clark smiled sheepishly and looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. Barry couldn't help but send a victorious glance in Bruce's direction when Clark made no move to brush off his hand. Bruce was still scrutinizing them even when Hal full on quarterback tackled him, pinning him to the ground and laughing. Bruce didn't seem to be having as much fun as Hal.

****

"I would love to Barry, but it's just not in the budget right now, you know?"

****

Bruce finally managed to wrestle Hal away from him, grabbing his neck with his ankles and tossing him over his body. He landed in the far corner of the room and rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit unsettled. Bruce visibly winced. It stung to see Hal like that, but it burned see Barry touching Clark. He threw Hal a (frankly unconvincing) sympathetic look and composed himself, brushing off his suit. "We can all go," he said, motioning to Hal in the corner of the room, holding his head and still struggling to stand up. Bruce stared straight at Barry, his eyes flickering to his hand on Clark's bicep and back up. "My treat."

****

Barry narrowed his eyes at him and the corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up momentarily before it pressed back into a hard line. Clark stepped forward out of Barry's grasp, his face hesitant.

****

"Oh, Bruce, you don't really have to do that-" Clark started before Bruce put his hand up to silence him. "I want to. Does tomorrow at 3 sound good?" He asked, inspecting Barry's cross look with a conceited smile.

****

Clark's face lit up and he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Bruce and nearly squeezing him to death with his hug. Well, Clark was always a hugger. Bruce would want nothing more than to stay enveloped in Clark's arms, unimaginably warm, but one look at Hal's upset face reminded him he couldn't. What the fuck was wrong with him? He already had a boyfriend. Not that he wanted to date Clark. Nope. Bruce kicked Clark as hard as he could in the shin and Clark finally plopped him down on the ground, still grinning. He was clearly unfazed by the assault on his shin that would've broken bones on anyone else. Meanwhile, Bruce disregarded the stinging in his toes in favor of staring at Clark's beaming face, which could apparently seemingly light up a whole room. Clark placed a companionable hand on his shoulder and winked at him. "Thanks Bruce." He turned and practically bounded out of the room, muttering about 'new flannel.'

****

Hal, Barry, and Bruce watched in silence and Clark sprung out of the room, the door slamming behind him. Barry whirled around, the annoyance on his face clear, and poked Bruce accusingly in the chest. "What the hell Bats? That was my chance!" Bruce angrily smacked his hand away, his mouth twisted into a frown. He narrowed his eyes at Barry through the cowl and shoved him out of the way, storming to the door. His gloved hand resting on the doorknob, he spun around to face him.

****

"Don't you have some rooms to mop?" He seethed. And then he was gone, his cape flowing as he stalked out and the door banged shut hard enough to shake the light fixtures. Barry stood there, perplexed and agitated beyond belief. That was not the regular Bat gruffness they all knew. Something had clearly made him upset. He turned to Hal, who had just managed to stand up and was leaning against the wall, mouth agape. He looked hurt, both physically and mentally. He knew that's not how Bruce ever treated Hal. Barry turned around to face the door and balled his hands into fists at his sides. He couldn't stand to see Hal upset. He was his best friend after all. "I have to start mopping," Barry muttered, before speeding out of the room, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.

****

Hal just slid down the wall, his hands around his knees. He stared at the floor for a while, thinking, and then suddenly sprang up, teetering sideways. He marched towards the door, taking one last look at the empty room with a sudden adamant look on his face. He would find out what was wrong with his Bruce, and make it all better. It would get better.

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

**Wayne Manor - November 18th, 2017. 1:56 PM.**

****

Bruce toweled off his wet hair, discarding the towel around his waist on the floor. He had to pick up Hal in 20 minutes, and he wasn't sure he was looking forward to it after what had happened the day before. He stalked over to his dresser and yanked the drawer open, rattling the case of flowers residing on it. He knew he needed to apologize though. He was his boyfriend after all. He pulled out a neatly folded charcoal polo shirt (Black, Alfred had said, but Bruce insisted it was charcoal, because there's a difference) and was pulling it over his head when he froze. There was a navy v-neck stuffed into the back of the drawer, forgotten among the other gray and black shirts. He eyed it for a second, then slowly pulled the "charcoal" shirt off, throwing it into some random corner of the room.

****

Clark liked blue.

****

He pulled out the shirt and threw it on, walking to the mirror. He needed to look his best for today.

****

For Hal.

****

Right.

****

He stood in the mirror and evaluated himself. Shower, check. He ran a hand through it, rumpling it, trying his best to make it look like he didn't just do that on purpose. Hair, check. He scratched at his stubble, which was very quickly growing into a beard.

****

He knew Hal wouldn't mind the stubble at all. Actually, he liked his scruffiness.

****

But would Clark?

****

Bruce contemplated a little longer in the mirror and then grabbed the razor from the drawer and the shaving cream from under the sink.

****

Well, he could've used a shave anyways.

****

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

 

****

Bruce's limo pulled up and Hal jumped in the back of it, a huge grin on his face. He was wearing green. His favorite color.

****

Bruce scrunched up his nose. It didn't really look as appealing as blue.

****

"Hey babe," Hal said, buckling in his seatbelt (cause even superheroes do safety first) and leaning across the seat to lay his head on Bruce's shoulder, his arms around his neck.

****

Bruce was really getting tired of that.

****

"Listen," Bruce started, tugging away slightly from Hal, "I'm really sorry about yesterday, it's just that I-"

****

"Shh shh shhhhh," Hal said putting a finger up to his lips and smushing them together awkwardly. Bruce looked down at the finger on his lips and his eyes widened by a fraction, a smirk appearing on his face.

****

Clark always did that. When they were hanging out together, and he started to talk about League strategies. "Shhhhh," he'd say, his mouth set in a frown, but his eyes laughing.

****

Bruce took Hal's finger in his mouth and nibbled lightly on it, a previous bruise slowly resurfacing. Hal stared at him for a few seconds in astonishment and then quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, surging forward to smash their lips together. Bruce hastily tore off his own seatbelt and almost toppled backwards, Hal on top of him. Bruce carded a hand through his hair and tugged him impossibly closer, their bodies pressed together.

****

"Mmmm, Clark," he whispered, smiling into the kiss.

****

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

 

****

Clark and Barry were waiting on the bench in front of the mall, and they were getting impatient. Clark was pacing in front of the bench, spewing the most absurd "what if's" he's ever heard. Barry was tapping his foot, his head in his hands, and honestly a bit annoyed that Clark was that concerned about Bruce.

****

Was Clark ever that concerned about him?

****

Barry looked down at his watch and frowned while Clark continued to ramble. It was 3:15 now, and they still weren't here. And as if on cue, a sleek black limo pulled up, and Barry had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

****

Showboat.

****

Bruce and Hal both stepped out, and the driver drove off looking quite perturbed. Hal had an impossibly huge smile on his face and an equally impressive bruise on his lower jaw. Bruce didn't have to pretend about his hair actually being disheveled now.

****

Clark's smile slowly disappeared.

****

"God, did you guys really have to have sex on the way here?" Barry asked, staring them down incredulously. Bruce just pushed past him, as always, Barry thought ruefully, and pushed the glass doors open. He easily strode inside, Bruce Wayne style, and leaned against the wall, eyeing them. He considered them for all of ten seconds before he quickly became distracted by a blonde bombshell walking past, winking at her. The blonde girl turned to her friend and giggled, and Barry had to repress a gag. Hal muttered something unintelligible but seemed to compose himself, plastering a smile on his face and marching inside. Clark and Barry watched them both questioningly until Barry cleared his throat, turning to him.

****

"So, shall we?"

****

Clark gave him a little smile and followed Barry inside as he held the door open for him.

****


	3. Chapter 3~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is emo?
> 
> Clark wants a bear. Barry wants a Clark. So does Bruce, he just doesn't know it yet. 
> 
> Hal is just hardcore fourth wheeling by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this chapter is longer than the others? Maybe? It feels like it. 
> 
> Chapter 4 should be out soon, cause it's the weekend and all I wanna do is write fanfiction and sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no."

"....."

"Pretty please?"

"No, Clark. You can do without it. You're a grown man."

Bruce, Hal, Barry, and Clark were standing outside Build-a-Bear Workshop, and Bruce was not impressed. Hal was leaning against the wall and talking with Barry, bored beyond belief, as Clark shook Bruce violently by his arm, practically begging for a bear. Barry would have bought him one in a heartbeat, but he didn't bring any money because Bruce was offering to pay for everything.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_

"Clark, it's a bear," he said through the other man's pathetic pleading.  
"Wouldn't you rather spend that money on clothes?" He asked, his face impassive as Clark looked down at him, pouting.

He hadn't realized Clark was taller than him. It wasn't very noticeable, maybe an inch or less, but it was definitely there. Huh.

Clark finally let go and stubbornly crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed.  
"Come on, Bruce. They even have a Superman outfit!" He whimpered, pointing at the racks of different costumes.  
"Yes, and about 7 little kids getting animals too," he said, motioning to one of the little girls walking past them out of the store, wearing a pink frilly skirt and holding a turtle.

"And look how happy she looks! They even have a Batman one, just for you," he pointed out, nudging his shoulder playfully.  
Bruce slapped his hand away, his nose wrinkling. He tried to hide the way the corner of his mouth quirked up, amused, and failed.  
"Too much suspicion, and you know that," he said, eyeing Clark as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then can we at least go to the food court?" He asked.

"See, that we can do," Bruce said pulling out his wallet.

Bruce looked down to grab a twenty out of his wallet only to find that it was gone. Hal's hair was windswept and he was leaned even more against the wall to center himself. He looked confused.

He looked around. Clark and Barry were gone.

He marched over to the store window and angrily planted his hands on the glass, looking in. They did not just use their powers. In public.

And, to his horror, there was Clark, holding Bruce's wallet and grabbing a bear off of the display rack, a huge smile on his face.

_That little-_

His eyes trailed over to Barry, who was next to him, inspecting a golden retriever plushie. As Clark turned to him, enthusiastically presenting the white bear he had chosen, Barry smiled and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. Clark paid no mind to it.

Bruce wasn't really that mad about his wallet anymore.

Bruce had completely forgotten about Hal as he stormed inside, ignoring the whispers of the perplexed employees, and grabbed Clark's wrist as he reached out towards the stuffing machine.

"You never use your powers again in public, you hear me? You could put the entire League in danger for some stupid fucking bear," he hissed, grabbing the bear out of his hands and shaking it violently.

Clark stared at him, mouth wide open, clearly unnerved. Barry's grip on Clark's shoulder tightened and he pulled him ever so slightly closer. Bruce glared at him and then realized Clark's lip was quivering slightly, his head hung down in shame.

_No no no, Clark please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-_

Bruce gently laid his hand on Clark's forearm and jerked his hand back quickly like he had been burnt. Bruce hastily shoved the bear back into Clark's outstretched hands, looking away from him. Hal was standing in the doorway, desperately trying to keep the employees' attention on him.

"Just, hurry up. I'll be outside."

Barry glared at Bruce before he guided Clark back to the stuffing machine, his hand still resting on his shoulder, much to Bruce's disdain.

Bruce slunk outside, hands shoved in his pockets, Hal carefully trailing behind him. He leaned against the railing on the opposite side of the store and watched as Barry and Clark went through the stations together.

Together. Right.

Barry was helping him pick out a costume for his bear now, smiling and nudging his shoulder as Clark pulled the miniature Superman costume off of the rack and studied it. Barry pulled off a little pink dress and held it up to himself, exaggeratedly posing and puckering his lips. Bruce could see Clark laugh and do the same, flipping his hair and blowing a kiss at Barry. Barry's face flushed pink and he looked away, smiling at the floor as he pulled a Flash costume off the rack and started dressing his dog.

Bruce looked away distastefully. He wanted to make Clark laugh like that.

Bruce turned around and leaned his arms on the railing, looking down at the people below them walking around. Hal came up next to him (he had honestly forgotten he was here) and laid his head on his shoulder.

"What's been bothering you Bruce?"

Bruce leaned his head on top of Hal's and sighed, watching as a kid ran around the lower level, arms spread out and wearing a Superman cape. Well, that would be a little hard to answer. Nothing much, I just realized that I don't want anyone touching my best friend and that he looks sexy in red spandex and his hair is pretty much flawless and that little curl that hangs down is just so fucking-

"Work," he lied. "Sales have been going down. There's been a breach in Wayne Enterprises' security."

Hal laughed and pecked him on his cheek, giving it a little pat. "That's weird, I haven't heard about that on the news. But you'll get through it. Like you always do."

Bruce opened his mouth to reply when someone tapped his shoulder and he turned his head, raising an eyebrow.

Clark was there holding a completely black bear, decked out in a Batman costume, looking at the ground with an apologetic look on his face. Barry was behind him, a Flash dog tucked under his arm, eyeing the bear unpleasantly. He had another bear tucked under his other arm, a snow white bear in a Superman suit. Clark was still holding the bear out for him, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Bruce. It was really stupid of me to do that."

Bruce slowly took the bear from him, the miniature cape flowing behind it and held it against his chest.

"I know you probably don't want it and all, but-"

"Thank you, Clark."

Clark finally looked up at him, his eyes filled with expectancy, and smiled.

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." Bruce smacked his shoulder and pointed a finger warningly at him. "Just don't do it again."

Clark's smile was impossibly bright.  
"You got it."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Barry, Bruce, Hal, and Clark were walking away from food court, all holding pretzels. They had all gotten the regular standard pretzel except for Clark, who was currently scarfing down a sugar pretzel. Bruce wasn't even sure that sugar affected Kryptonians, but if it did Clark certainly didn't need any more of it.  
They were all holding bags except for Clark, because Barry and Bruce had insisted that they were fine holding them. "I got it Clark. I invited you today, the least I can do is hold everything," Barry had said, extracting the bags from Clark's left hand.

"You know I can hold my own bags, right? I'm not a kid."

Bruce stubbornly took the bags from his right hand, slinging them over his shoulder.  
"You sure were acting like one back there at Build-a-Bear," he said, ignoring Clark's eye roll. "I got it, don't worry."  
Clark had just smiled and shrugged, continuing walking. Barry spared Bruce a sideways glance and his eyes were fixed on the retreating figure, pure want swimming through them.

He didn't like it. He knew Bruce Wayne was unfaithful, but Bruce? He couldn't imagine it.

"So, you think we got time to visit one more store?" Clark asked, turning around.  
"Yeah, one more. I have a meeting at 7, so," Bruce said, snapping out of his trance and glimpsing at his watch. "Where do you want to go?"

Clark turned around in circles, surveying the stores around him. "Hey, look Bruce. It's your store," Clark said, his eyes playful.  
Bruce turned his head to see what he was pointing at and his eyebrows shot up.  
"Hot Topic?" He questioned, observing a girl wearing way too much black eyeliner walk out of the store.

"Yeah. It's an emo store."

Bruce eyed him curiously.  
"I am not emo," he insisted.

Clark scoffed, beaming.  
"Yes, you are."

Barry appeared behind him, nodding his head in agreement. Bruce glowered at him, and Barry shrugged, snickering.

"You kinda are."

He looked over at Hal and gave him a look as if to say 'come on, help me out here.' Hal just shrugged and Bruce could tell he was suppressing a laugh.

"Whatever. Just choose a store," Bruce muttered.

"Hmmmm.... there," Clark said, pointing at a store he didn't recognize. And thank god it was an actual clothing store and not some candy shop. He didn't know if he could deal with another one of Clark's tantrums.

Clark had started walking towards it before he had even answered and Barry eagerly followed him, jogging beside him to keep up. Bruce rushed to catch up with Clark, and they all walked into the store together, talking.

Hal grudgingly followed them in. Bruce was definitely happier then earlie, but he didn't think it was because of him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bruce was watching Barry hand a few pairs of jeans to Clark, holding them up to him to try and get the right size. Barry deposited a few more pairs in his arms and Clark smiled at him and said a few things before he wandered away to the back of the store.

At least that's what Bruce could see from his vantage point.

_Vantage point,_  Bruce reminded himself,  _not hiding place._

Bruce was almost thrown into a rack of clothes as Hal jumped to his side and grabbed his arm, shaking him.

"Bruce! Look what I found!" He said, holding up a Green Lantern shirt and grinning triumphantly.

"That's nice. You should buy it."

"It is nice. That's why you should buy it."

"No."

"Come on!" Hal whined. He shoved the shirt into Bruce's arms along with a few others, all of them, to his dismay, not black.

Or blue.

Bruce pushed all of them away, his face hard. "No."

"But then everyone will know you're mine," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Bruce didn't know why he felt nauseous at that thought. "I'm not wearing it. If you want it, I'll buy it for you."

"But Bruce....."

"No."

But Bruuuuce-"

"No, Hal. Stop asking."

"......"

"Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuce."

"Okay! Fine!" He shouted irritably. "If I try these on, will you stop asking?"  
Hal smiled victoriously and nodded as Bruce snatched the shirts out of his hand. He trudged over to the dressing room and yanked open a random curtain and stepped inside, not even bothering to look around.

"Fucking Hal," he muttered, taking off his shirt and discarding it somewhere unknown. "Imbecile." He pulled out the Green Lantern shirt and was about to pull it on when he heard someone clear their throat.

"Um, Bruce?"

Bruce spun around and almost fell back through the curtain due to what greeted him.

_My God-_

Clark was standing there, a pair of jeans halfway pulled up as he stared at Bruce unusually.

"Uh, hey Clark," he stuttered.

Batman did not just stutter.

Clark raised an eyebrow at him the corner of his mouth quirked up.  
"Bruce, I'm kinda changing here."

"Uh, right," he said, backing up towards the curtain. "I'll just be leaving then."

Bruce turned around to leave when Clark cleared his throat, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair.

"Bruce, you're shirtless."

Bruce didn't dare look at Clark out of fear he might jump him right then and there. He slowly bent over and grabbed the closest shirt off the floor, throwing it on.

"Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah Clark?"

".... Nice shirt," he said, his voice small. Bruce spared a glance in his direction and Clark's face had sunk from his usual bright smile, his face crestfallen.

It startled Bruce a lot more than he would've liked to think.

"Thank you," he breathed, and then wrenched the curtain open, ducking out as fast as he could.

Once he was out, he looked down at the shirt he was wearing, the one Clark had looked so dejected at.

The Green Lantern shirt.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark came out of the dressing room moments later, the pairs of jeans now folded neatly in his hands. His face was lighthearted and soft again, and he didn't mention what had happened in the dressing room just minutes before.

Bruce wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, thanks for the fun day Bruce," Clark said once they were finally out of the mall. "I think I'm gonna go to the Watchtower, do some training, you know. Maybe I'll see you later."  
"No problem," Bruce said, flashing him his best Brucie Wayne smile. "And hopefully I will see you later," he said, sticking his hand out for Clark to shake.

Clark gripped his hand firmly and shook it, flashing him a smile.

"Bye guys," he said, waving a final goodbye at Hal and Barry. He lowered himself into his car and drove off, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.

"I'll see you later Bruce. Thanks for paying and all that," Barry muttered, turning toward him.  
He stuck out his hand for Bruce to shake and Bruce shook it weakly, his grip flimsy. Barry pulled him in as Bruce tried to tug his hand away and leaned in close, his breath ghosting against his ear. "Stay away from Clark," he hissed.

And then he was pulling back, a smile on his face and brushing off Bruce's shirt. "Bye Hal," he said, turning to regard him. Hal feebly waved at him as Barry took off down the street, his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I'm gonna go to the Watchtower. You coming?" Hal asked.

"No," Bruce said, shaking his head, "I have to patrol tonight with Dick."

"Well, I'll see you later then," Hal said, wrapping an arm around his waist and pecking his cheek.

"Yeah," Bruce said to himself as Hal walked off, "Later."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark gets the invitation to Wayne Manor’s charity gala. 
> 
> Bruce plots. 
> 
> Hal *ahem* helps Barry. 
> 
> When will they just get it together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back back back, back again again?
> 
> Lex is back back back, tell a friend friend friend. 
> 
> I’ve started a few other fanfictions and I want to start writing a book so I’m really sorry about the delay. Might wanna brace yourself for some more. 
> 
> Two questions for you all!!!
> 
> 1\. Anyone here like Stony? ;)  
> And 2. Who wants to see my first ever fanfiction? (Spoiler alert, the smut is terrible, but, oh well.)
> 
> Let me know in the comments. Hope you enjoy my (not very anticipated but very procrastinated) chapter!

Chapter 4~

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Lucius," Bruce said, swirling around in his chair. Lucius was just staring at him, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. 

"Bruce," Lucius said, regarding him. 

"Why am I here exactly Lucius?" Bruce asked, studying his nails, "I have a very pretty blonde lady waiting for me back at the Manor, and she's very, very impatient." 

Lucius just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair while Bruce idly played with a pencil. "Listen. That art charity gala you're hosting? You're planning on bringing that," he waved his hand dismissively, "Harold Jordan guy, am I right?"

Lucius scoffed when the pencil slipped out of Bruce's hand and when flying across the office, hitting the tv mounted on the wall. 

"I'll fix that," Bruce said, pulling out another pencil out of his pocket and twirling it around in his fingers. "And yes, he'll be attending as my plus one." Bruce smiled fondly, and Lucius raised an eyebrow at him. "He's been so excited to go ever since I told him."

"Well, you're gonna have to ditch him," Lucius said bluntly, crossing his arms. 

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but other than that he showed no indication of it bothering him. "And why is that Lucius?"

"Silver St. Cloud. That's why."

Bruce frowned and stopped mid pencil twirl. Silver. That's right.

"She has her eye on a very exorbitant-"

Bruce raised a hand to stop him and he reluctantly quieted down, frowning. 

"....What does that mean?"

It took all of Lucius' willpower not to bang his head against the desk. "Expensive. Listen, she wants to buy this "expensive," Lucius punctuated, glaring daggers at Bruce, "art piece. But she'll hardly do so without a little coaxing." At Bruce's confounded look, Lucius did actually face plant into the desk. "Convincing. It means convincing, Bruce," he said into the wood. 

"Oh, okay. Where do I play into this?"

Lucius looked up from the desk, looking weary. "You're going to spend the whole night with her. Work your," he waved his hand, "Brucie Wayne charm. And you're gone get her to buy that art piece," at Bruce's exasperated groan, he added, "for charity."

Bruce eyed him, and then crossed his arms. Of course Bruce was planning one doing that before Lucius had even brought it up to him. Flirt a little, leave a few lingering touches, and she'd clean out her entire bank account for him. Simple. He could do that. But Bruce Wayne would have to be a stubborn ass about it. 

"And what about Hal? My love, my life?"

Lucius just rolled his eyes. They both knew that Bruce Wayne could hardly keep a somewhat stable relationship, much less love someone. Harold Jordan was the fourth person this week that Bruce had compared to being his life. "He can invite a plus one or something. You know, to keep him company. Sound fair?"

Bruce just sighed and threw the pencil he was twirling in his fingers at Lucius as feebly as he could manage. Lucius caught it one handed and tucked it into his pocket, raising an eyebrow back at him. 

Bruce just smirked. 

"Sounds fair."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark fidgeted under Perry's scrutinizing gaze, wringing his hands together nervously. As soon as Clark had sat down, Perry had stood up and leaned over the desk so he could tower over Clark. He probably knew he wouldn't have been able to otherwise. 

"Listen, Chief-" Clark started, but cut off at Perry's hard glare at being called "Chief."   
"I know I really messed up and I'm really, really, really sorry and... please don't fire me," he said finally, deflating in his chair. 

Perry studied him for a second and then exhaled loudly. "I'm not going to fire you Kent. Your article was actually very... well written," he said hesitantly, eyeing Clark. "But," he continued, "It was a day late. And it had to be out specifically that day. You understand that right?"  
"I understand sir," Clark muttered.   
"And I know how much you hate social events," Perry said, raising an eyebrow at him. "And that's why I'm assigning you to one as punishment."

Kal knew he should fight back. Insist that he shouldn't be punished when Ron did the exact same thing two weeks ago and got off scott free. But Clark Kent wouldn't fight back. 

"Yes sir," he mumbled, purposely avoiding his gaze. 

"Good. Now get out of my office Kent. Lois will have the information on your desk by noon."

And at that, he sat back down and started sifting through the mountain of papers on his desk. Clark wordlessly stood up and left, leaning against the door as it slammed shut behind him. 

"Perry get on you again Smallville?"

He lazily turned his head to see Lois leaning against the wall, regarding him. 

"Yeah. But it's nothing Lo." At Lois' raised eyebrow, he repeated, "Nothing."

"You sure Smallville? Cause you just ripped your notepad in half."

"Huh?" Clark looked down at the notepad that had been clutched to his chest only to find it ripped cleanly down the middle. Clark hastily shoved it into his jacket pocket and wearily sighed. He looked back up at Lois, her mouth tilted in a frown and a brow raised incredulously. "Okay fine," he started, walking to his desk with Lois beside him, her heels clacking loudly. "Perry assigned me to cover a society event. And you know I hate social events."

Clark disliked social events for a variety of reasons. Everyone who attended was either rich or famous, and they always thought they were better than everyone because of that fact. Clark, along with all the reporters, were always considered the "middle class", so they were always overlooked. Of course, Clark wasn't complaining. Much. Being overlooked was the whole point of his civilian disguise, but even Clark Kent liked a little recognition or praise every once in a while. And not as Superman. 

And another thing was that these lavish parties always managed to attract some crazy psychopath who wanted to get their hands on a little cash or to prove a point about Rao knows what. Clark couldn't remember the last time he had gone to a society party and someone didn't try to blow the whole place up or hold someone hostage. He could scarce have a good time as Clark Kent because he was busy saving the world as Superman. 

That was yet another thing. Those parties were packed with people, and he never knew when someone might look a bit too closely at him and expose his identity. The hunching over and glasses had worked for years, but if Bruce had managed to see through his disguise so quickly, anyone else could. In his defense, though, Bruce was The World's Greatest Detective. But anyways, he couldn't afford to have his identity outed. 

He also couldn't afford eight hundred dollar rent without a stable job though, and so-

"Oh. I was wondering why Perry gave me this. He never tells me anything," she said, rolling her eyes. She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a folded up piece of paper, handing it to him. "Here. Well," she said, shrugging, "It's only one event. And I think you'll be quite interested to find out where it's being held," she said, winking. "Well, I'm going to that bomb sandwich place around the corner for lunch. Later, Smallville."  
And with that, she turned and sashayed out of the office, her hair swinging behind her and the sound of her red heels echoing in Clark's ears long after she was gone. 

Clark looked down at the little piece of paper and unfolded it. His eyes swept across the page, taking in his next assignment. 

He looked up, confused, and asked no one in particular, "Wayne Manor?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hal was in his private quarters, shoving the Watchtower's entire supply of junk food under his bed. He couldn't count the number of times Bruce had had it restocked this week. It almost made him feel guilty when Bruce would lecture Barry about controlling his snacking habits and Barry would just stare at the floor, agreeing with him. 

Almost. 

He looked over his shoulder dubiously, grinning when no one came in. He stowed a chocolate bar in his pillow case and then ripped open another one on his bed, throwing the crumpled up wrapper into the ever growing pile. He was definitely going to pick them up tomorrow. He was about to take a bite when the door flew open, scaring him half to death. He may be Green Lantern, but even he hated jump scares. Barry came bouncing in, a huge smile on his face and his eyes twinkling. 

"Jesus Christ!" Hal yelped as Barry flopped down on the bed, arms spread wide. "Have you heard of knocking?!"

Barry just looked at him, smiling. "We both know we're way past knocking at this point. Anyways, Hal, can you believe it?" Barry asked, snatching the chocolate bar from him. Hal exaggeratedly pouted and crossed his arms when Barry broke off a piece of it and popped it into his mouth. He noticed Barry was breathing heavily, which was kind of disconcerting, since nothing winded the Flash. "Believe what?" Hal asked. 

"Oh come on, you have to remember!" Barry whined, sitting up. His cheeks were flushed pink. 

Hal tried to think back to what had happened over the last couple of days. He really didn't remember. He hadn't pissed Barry off too bad these past few days. But then again, he couldn't even remember what he had for lunch that day. 

When Hal just questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, Barry sighed and flopped back down on to the bed. "You know," Barry whispered, eyes darting to him, "Clark."   
Hal glared and grabbed the candy out of Barry's hand, ignoring Barry's huff. "Yes, I know of him. Kal-El. Superman. Clark Kent. So?"

.....

Bruce was walking past the private quarters, heading to the monitor rooms. 

God, he hated monitor duty. He'd much rather be working on that weapons shipment docking in Gotham tomorrow night with Alfred. He knew where it was happening, just not when. Batman never went into a situation with half the information. Between monitor duty and tonight's Brucie Wayne obligations, though, he wasn't sure he was going to have enough time to get all of the details. 

But maybe, then again, if he didn't get all the logistics in place on time, he could ask Clark for help. And then he'd get to see him. 

He had his hand on the doorknob to the monitor room when he heard voices coming from Hal's room. He was going to ignore it, (really) but he couldn't help but perk up at hearing Clark's name from Hal. He suspiciously turned his head narrowed his eyes in the direction of the cracked open door. Hal was known for his... "harmless" pranks against the JL, per se, from hanging Barry upside down from one of the tallest buildings in Central City to substituting Bruce's black coffee with sewer water. Let's just say he didn't get any sex that night. 

They could be... planning something against Clark. He should listen in, just in case. Bruce quietly slid up against the wall, leaning into the door and listening to the muffled voices coming from inside. 

"Yes, I know of him. Kal-El. Superman. Clark Kent. So?"

So, Hal was talking about Clark. He wasn't wrong in that regard. But he didn't know he was talking to. He should probably listen in a little bit longer. 

You know, for safety purposes. 

 

.....

 

"So," Barry drawled, sitting up," You know how Bruce is having a charity party tomorrow night?" 

Hal nodded and rolled his eyes. "I think I would know Bar. I was the one who invited you," he said pointedly, munching on his chocolate bar. 

"Anyways," Barry said, blantantly ignoring him, "He's going to be there. I was just talking to him earlier, in the monitor room. He was saying that Perry had him there for his latest assignment."

"Okay, that's cool," Hal said, biting down on the last bit of chocolate. He sucked his fingers into his mouth and Barry couldn't help but get distracted for a second, losing his train of thought. 

Barry shook his head to clear it. "That's all you have to say about it? Cool? Hal, this is my chance to finally make a move!" Barry exclaimed, kicking his legs in the air for emphasis. "You know, kiss him," he said shyly, so quietly Bruce almost missed it. 

Bruce froze. Make his move? He was going to try and kiss Clark? Bruce's stomach churned. He thought Barry wouldn't actually have the balls to do that. He didn't have a contingency plan for this. He knew what the outcome would be though. 

If Barry was successful in kissing Clark, then Barry would inevitably ask him out. And then they'd start dating. And then they'd have sex. And then they'd move in together, and then get engaged, and then married, and-

Bruce would have to watch Clark slowly slip away from him. 

He had to stop this kiss. 

That was what he was going to do. Bruce finally collected himself and straightened up from his position bunched against the wall. He glanced at the clock. Shit. He was late for monitor duty. 

 

...

 

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there tiger," Hal said eyeing him. Barry raised an eyebrow at him, smiling. "Okay, bad choice of words," Hal admitted, grinning back down at him. "But you can't just go rushing in head first."

"What do you mean?" Barry asked, sitting up, looking concerned. 

"I mean, have you ever even kissed anyone?"

Barry looked offended. "Of course I have! I've kissed Iris!"

"And....?"

Barry didn't look so offended anymore. More defeated. "No.... one else, actually," he admitted. 

"Oh my pure little Barry," Hal cooed, pinching his cheeks. Barry slapped his hand away irritably. "Shut up."

"I could help you, ya know."

Barry leaned away from Hal, slightly taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I could help you learn how to kiss," Hal said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

Barry was silent for a second, staring at him with gaping eyes. Hal just rolled his eyes.

"It's not like it's a real kiss. I'm just teaching you. God, you're such a wuss." Hal stood up, throwing another wrapper into the pile. "Well, if you want Clark to think you're a bad kisser, be my guest." He took a step forward when Barry grabbed his hand. Hal turned around hesitantly and glanced at Barry. (Fix) "No," Barry breathed, his chest rising unsteadily. "It's- it's fine."

Hal sucked in a sharp breath before flopping down on the bed next to him. Barry pulled his hand away and rested in awkwardly in his lap. 

"So," Hal started, "This is going to sound like the stupidest thing ever, but a kiss isn't just a kiss." Barry raised an eyebrow at him. "A kiss is more than just lips touching. It's something you share with someone. You share your heart, your breath, your soul, your time, everything." Hal smiled at the ceiling. "Yourself."

"Wow," Barry murmured. Hal looked over at him, hands now resting behind his head. "What, did my poetic locution move you to the verge of tears?" Hal asked smugly. 

"No, it's just that you've been watching way too much Hallmark lately," Barry snickered. Hal laughed with him, his heart deliriously light. He loved laughing with Barry. He was feeling a bit down lately, what with Bruce and all, but Barry always managed to lift his spirits. Hal glanced over at him fondly. 

"So, are you going to teach me or are you just going to stare at me?" Barry asked looking at the floor. He was trying to make it sound joking and light, but it sounded more stern. Barry winced internally at how scratchy he had sounded. 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Hal coughed. Hal tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder, and when Barry didn't flinch away, he slowly inched forward. They were about an inch away when Hal whispered, "Uh, just, follow my lead, okay?" 

Barry froze when Hal's lips nudged his, so softly that he could have been imagining it. Hal pointedly didn't look into Barry's eyes, instead reverting his gaze to his lips brushing against Barry's. This was awkward. He should probably actually do something. Like kiss him. 

Barry's eyes fluttered closed when Hal softly but firmly placed his lips on his. Hal kept his eyes on Barry, studying him with pupils blown wide and heavily breathing through his nose. Barry's arms came up and clutched at his shoulders, the white shirt Hal was wearing bunching up in his hands. 

And that was when Hal lost it. 

Hal surged forward, his arms snaking around Barry's waist and pulling him closer, their chests now flush against each other.   
Barry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Oh, right. He was supposed to be teaching him. 

Hal's tongue slid out from his mouth, tentatively running it along Barry's lower lip. Barry gasped and promptly opened his mouth, his own tongue darting out in search of Hal's. Hal thrust his tongue into Barry's mouth and ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, nipping at Barry's bottom lip when he felt the other man's body shiver violently against him. Their tongues lazily slid together, and Barry tasted bitter and sweet like the chocolate he had had only minutes earlier and- 

Their tongues danced together, Barry's fingers clawing at Hal's back hard enough to leave scratches. Barry was doing God knows what with his tongue, making white spots dot Hal's vision. If he kissed Clark like this, there was no doubt he would do anything Barry wanted. 

Clark. 

Shit. Clark. 

Shit. Bruce. 

Hal pulled back, panting and Barry instinctively leaned back in, seeking his lips again. Hal was tempted to give in, let Barry's warm body rub up against him while he ran his fingers through that silky hair, grabbed those strong hips...

"Uh, good. That was good. I think you're definitely ready for tonight,"Hal said, shooting him an awkward thumbs up. He untangled himself from a still confused Barry and scooted away. “You definitely got that down," Hal said, standing up and slowly backing up to the door behind him. “Um, see you tonight!”

The door slammed shut behind him, and he brought a finger to his lips, tracing along where Barry had been seconds ago. 

Damn. He was a good student. 

Hal ran away from the door as quickly as he could. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clark stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, trying to straighten his tie for the sixth consecutive time. He pulled the knot tight and studied himself in the mirror, first looking straight forward, and then his profile. His eyebrows furrowed irritatingly and he started untying it again, muttering curses under his breath. He huffed in annoyance once he finally got it off and wrapped the tie around his neck, starting over again. Make that the seventh. Maybe he should just go without one. It's not like anyone would pay any kind of attention to him except for Bruce. 

.....

No, he should probably wear one. 

Clark picked up his phone off the dresser and dialed a number. It rang a few times before he finally got a reply. "Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Who's calling?"

"Hey Lois," Clark started, pacing around the room. He didn't really need an introduction. "I'm going to need you to come and help me put this on..."

 

Lois arrived about ten minutes later, hands on her hips and looking at him like not being able to tie a necktie made a menace to human society. "I just left work," Lois said, clicking her tongue in annoyance and somewhat amusement, "to help you put on this stupid tie. You owe me one."

Clark shrugged ruefully and stepped aside to let her in. "I owe you one," he agreed. 

Lois strode past him and straight into this kitchen, tugging the fridge door open like she lived there. 

He supposed she did, at one point. 

"Jesus Smallville, do you have anything edible in here?"  
She pulled out a half full gallon of milk and shook it in front of his face. She made a comically repulsed face when it sloshed around in the container. "This is a month last the expiration date!" Lois made her way over to the counter and poured the spoiled milk into the sink, which was truthfully more white chunks then liquid at this point. It landed in the sink with a loud splat, and Lois exaggeratedly gagged.  
She turned the water on and left it running to wash away the clumps it had left in the sink. "Lois, I don't make enough money to have the luxury of keeping the water on," Clark pointed out as Lois pushed past him and out of the kitchen. "Well, since you don't have anything even remotely edible," Lois said, flicking on the light switch to Clark's room and blatantly ignoring him, "Let's get this show on the road."  
Lois was already sifting through his closet by the time Clark arrived, throwing shirts behind her.   
"Um, Lois?" Clark asked, leaning his hip against the entryway to his bedroom, "I just need help with the tie?"

He held it up and Lois looked up from her hunt and narrowed her eyes. She made her way over to him and snatched it from him, ignoring Clark's "Hey!"

"Clark, this is plaid," Lois said, eyeing it dubiously. 

"Yeah, so?"

"Plaid," she repeated, staring at him in disbelief, "Clark, you can't wear plaid to Wayne Manor."

"Why not?" Clark asked, taking the tie from Lois, eyebrows furrowed. He held it up to himself in the mirror, slouching and then standing straight up again. "It's fine," he said, handing it back to her.

"Clark, you need to shred this. Or throw it into the Atlantic. Or use your heat vision and burn it for all I care. You can never wear this again."

"Okay, okay, I got it," Clark said, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. "You choose one then."

Lois went straight to his drawer full of ties, the wood clattering as she pulled it open, and pulled out a deep dark blue one. Clark's ears turned red. She didn't ask him if he liked it, because she knew he did. That tie had always been his favorite one, and hers too, but he could never wear it as Clark Kent at the prospect of looking too formal. 

Clark swallowed nervously and hesitantly stepped forward so she could start tying it. It had been about two months since they had broken up, and even now it was still kind of awkward. She looped the tie around his neck and started tying it, not looking up at him. They were still practically best friends, but there was always something a little bit different about the everyday things they did. Like how she wouldn't wipe ketchup off the corner of his mouth with her thumb and then laugh at him for being so messy. She would hand him a napkin and that was it. She wouldn't sit on his desk and talk to him with her legs idly swinging off the edge anymore. She would stand a respectable distance from his desk and keep her hands clasped behind her back while she talked. He had mostly gotten over the breakup, but there would always be a small part of him that was still madly in love with her. 

Lois cursed and threw her hands in the air and he looked down at her in surprise. She took a deep breath in and brought the tie back up, still avoiding his gaze. "Listen Clark," Lois said, wrapping the tie around his neck for what had to have been at least the 7th time, "I know that you don't..." she let out another breath, "love me anymore," she said hesitantly. "I know where your heart lies." She looked at the ground, and Clark could've sworn he saw a tear roll down her cheek, and whispered, "I think I knew for a long time." Clark let out a breath he hadn't been sure he was holding. Lois finished knotting the tie and pulled it tight, still looking at the ground as she smoothed it down. Awkward silence hung between them until Lois' head popped up so fast Clark could barely track it. "But that's not important right now," she chirped, back to her bubbly self. She patted his chest and left the room, Clark watching her retreating figure. When he followed her out into the living room, Lois was already halfway out the door, looking back at him. "Good luck Clark. Go get your man."

And then the door slammed shut. 

 

 

"Wait, what?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
